


Why Can't You See? (You Belong With Me)

by Bethy_sherlocked (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Fluff, M/M, you belong with me taylor swift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 05:37:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Bethy_sherlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes has had a crush on John Watson ever since John stopped Anderson from bullying Sherlock. Sherlock doesn't understand why John insists on staying with his over-bearing, brat of a girlfriend, Sarah. (Based off of Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me")</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why Can't You See? (You Belong With Me)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fic I've ever written so yeah, it's probably pretty crappy. Oh well, I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Why Can’t You See? (You Belong With Me)  
Sherlock flopped on his bed, exhausted. Homework was always boring, but tonight it was especially tedious because Mycroft wouldn’t give him back his experimental equipment until it was finished.  
“Stupid git”, thought Sherlock with venom. He grabbed his violin and plucked a few notes of Bach’s Partita in E Major. He glanced through his window to see his neighbor, John, on the phone. He didn’t mean to listen but how could he help it when his and John’s windows were open?  
“Listen to me, please, Sarah! I’m sorry about that, I really am! Just-“John was cut off by his over-bearing, brat of a girlfriend on the phone.  
Sherlock wondered what could possibly have set off Sarah’s temper tantrum this time. Then, he remembered, earlier at school that day John had made a joke about Sarah’s new hairstyle (“Quite a good joke too,” thought Sherlock.). Of course, Sarah had never understood John’s humor. How could she when she didn’t understand John?  
John was a year ahead of Sherlock and one of the most popular kids at school. He was the stocky and muscular football captain who dressed in plush jumpers which made him look like a cuddly teddy bear. When you first met John, he didn’t create a lasting impression (Sherlock had made the mistake of thinking he was boring, of course that ended when John sent a boy to the school nurse for bullying Sherlock about being a freak. When would Anderson give up?) but when fully considered, his blonde hair and his wide smile were rather endearing.  
But Sherlock was roused from his reverie about John by hearing John’s voice pleading to his girlfriend.  
“Please just forget I ever said it, Sarah.” John paused as she said something, “Okay, okay, I’ll see you at school then. ‘Night.” John sighed and dropped onto the bed, head in his hands.  
Sherlock reached under his bed for his pad of paper and markers getting ready to strike up a conversation with Sherlock. They had used this method of communication ever since Mycroft had yelled at him for talking to John by means of yelling across the expanse that separated their houses.  
Flipping the pad open to the first empty sheet, Sherlock uncapped the pen and wrote “You okay?” across the page. He glanced up at John and then softly called his name while holding up the page.  
John immediately grabbed his own pad and pen and bent over the page. When he held up the page, it read, “Tired of all the drama.”  
Sherlock shrugged and looked down at his own paper. When he looked up John was holding a new sign asking if he was planning on going to the football game the next night. Smiling, Sherlock wrote “I’ll be there rooting for you.” John grinned and gave him the thumbs up before gesturing to let Sherlock know that he was going to bed.  
Sherlock smiled at him as John shut his curtain to shut out the light from the street lamp. Sherlock glanced down at his own notepad, where the message he so longed to tell John, yet couldn’t, sat mocking him. Sighing, Sherlock set down the notepad and entered his mind palace, fingers joining together underneath his chin. He didn’t realize that as he sat there, John was peeking out from behind his curtain smiling fondly and shaking his head at the familiar position of his friend. John knew that Sherlock couldn’t be disturbed once he went to his mind palace so he let the curtain gently fall and then lay in bed thinking about the latest row with his girlfriend. Somehow, his thoughts went to Sherlock and all his rude (yet somehow endearing) mannerisms.  
That night both John and Sherlock went to sleep with the other on their mind and a fond smile on their lips. One mused over his friend until the conclusion was formed that the only way to ease his mind would be to confess his feelings for his friend, and be rejected or accepted, while the other thought of all the times his friend had been there for him when dealing with his irate girlfriend.

~♪♫♪~

The next day at school, John suffered through his girlfriend’s rants and snide comments with his usual indifferent countenance. Sherlock especially hated that look because it meant that John was trying to hide how much the comments really hurt him.  
At lunch that day, before John came in, Sherlock spotted Sarah sitting with the biggest bully (*ahem* I mean football player of course), in the school. Jim Moriarty wasn’t as large as John, but he had a way of intimidating people with his manic eyes and grin. Sherlock had always been unimpressed by Jim and always had responded with scathing remarks when he had asked him out.  
Sarah was, quite obviously, flirting with Jim and didn’t notice when John walked in. John noticed them immediately and headed over when he stopped dead in his tracks, face contorting with different emotions. Sarah had kissed Jim right in front of him. Recovering himself, John set down his tray of food, and grabbed Jim roughly by the collar.  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” John spat at Sarah. “John, please listen I can expl-“  
“No. I’m done listening to you explain everything until I get blamed. You want to kiss him? Go right ahead, we’re through.” With that, John shoved Moriarty back and stomped out of the cafeteria.  
Sherlock considered following him, but decided against it choosing to let his friend calm down before seeking him out. 

Sarah tried apologizing a few more times that day, always getting cut off by John before she could get very far. She finally stomped off in a huff to sit with Moriarty and his gang proclaiming loudly that she was glad to finally be rid of John and wouldn’t be caught dead in a room with him anymore.  
John attempted to shrug off her not-so-subtle remarks about him for the rest of the day but went to get ready for the football match that night with her taunts still ringing in his ears.  
Sherlock noticed from the bleachers that John’s playing was off and he seemed to be easily angered by his team tonight. His hatred for Sarah increased ten-fold as he watched John stomp off the field after being soundly beaten by the opposing team.  
Before heading into the changing room, John noticed Sherlock standing hesitantly, still in the bleachers. Motioning to Sherlock to wait for him, John headed into the changing rooms and came out 10 minutes later in jeans and his customary jumper (this time a dark blue one that suited him just perfectly). Falling into stride together they turned their steps towards their adjoining houses.  
“John, I’m really sorr-“ Sherlock started to say before John cut him off.  
“I don’t want to talk about it, Sherlock. Hell, I don’t even want to think about it.” John said with venom.  
Sherlock stopped determined that it was time to have it out with John, and to heck with the consequences.  
“John, I need to tell you something.” His voice was surprisingly calm, considering the tumultuous state of his brain.  
“All right. What’s up, Sherlock?” John asked.  
Instead of useless words, Sherlock reached into his pocket and drew out the paper, which was only slightly crumpled from the day spent in Sherlock’s pocket. Unfolding it, he handed it to John and awaited the consequences of his confession.  
Written on the paper were the three simple, yet powerful words “I love you.” John’s face was a picture, showing surprise, confusion, and hesitancy all in the same second. Wordlessly, he reached in his own pocket and pulled out the paper he’d been carrying around for weeks now.  
Sherlock unfolded it and read the words that matched his own. A grin split out on Sherlock’s face which was matched on John’s when Sherlock looked up.  
Still grinning, they continued to walk until they reached their own houses. Pausing at Sherlock’s door, John leaned forward and kissed him chastely on the cheek. Sherlock didn’t press, because after all, now that they both knew how the other felt, they would have months to explore each other.  
They parted, both still grinning like idiots at each other, each as determined as the other to not let the other go ever again.


End file.
